In the Service of Liars and Killers
by Wannabe Darklord
Summary: It is a constant sensation at the back of his mind, one he has to keep in check lest it control him. [AU canon divergence set during the Avengers.]


A/N: Crossposted from AO3. Written for sabulum-p on tumblr, for a prompt fill. Comments always appreciated :)

* * *

The knowledge Loki passes on to Selvig burns through the man's mind like wildfire, reaching and grasping and _hungry_. He looks away from the shambles of Selvig's mind, what little he could save.

Loki doesn't give anything to Barton but the most immediate orders.

 **xxx**

What the Chitauri want, he wants. It is a constant sensation at the back of his mind, one he has to keep in check lest it control _him_. It is exhausting and he fails more often than he'd like, scrambling to put a plan together.

 **xxx**

The plan for the opera is a good one. Get the attention of the Avengers, cause a little chaos, the perfect feint to draw attention away from the iridium. It is not often that he uses himself as bait, to make himself so visible. The thrill of it sets his heart racing.

He grins at the commotion around him, the fear, the panic. The cold detachment from before, the need to _justgetthisoverwith_ is drowned out by the pounding in his ears, the whisper in his heart that says _this is good, this_ feels _good_.

He is drunk with it, words falling from his lips he is only vaguely aware of. He knows, _knows_ he only speaks the truth, for had this not also happened to him? All the proof these mortals need is before them, they need only accept him (them) _her_ into their hearts and minds.

It is not until he is blasted into the stairs that the azure haze recedes. Loki blinks, gaze falling on red and gold, on ingenuity that lets one mortal deign to battle with gods. Loki likes his presumptuousness. The flicker of an idea, quickly pulled beyond the reach of the blue, emerges.  
Loki doesn't let those thoughts pass his face, for all that he wants to smirk and taunt and ask _how dare they defy him_? Unease churns in his gut at the last thought - he cannot tell if it is truly his own.

Loki surrenders. Time for another sleight of hand.

 **xxx**

His control over Barton slips. He lets the Hawk go.

 **xxx**

Loki smirks when he sees Iron Man fly up to his tower. Good, the mortal is not witless and does not lack tenacity. Foolish though for not waiting for the others, even if all of this plays into his hands very nicely. Foolish too, for taking off his armor.

It will be so easy to drive the tip of his spear into Stark's flesh. His blood will be bright and red, spilling all over Loki's hands and scepter. It almost vibrates in his hands in anticipation, a gnawing hunger released after he had killed that meddlesome agent - Loki wrenches his thoughts away from blood and death. There shall be more of it soon enough even without his help, once the portal is open. He has different plans for this clever mortal.

They exchange quips and banter. Loki's heart thuds in anticipation. Everything is coming to a head. He lifts the scepter and it takes all he has to restrain himself from pushing it forward with all his strength. Instead, Stark flinches. The tip grates against something metallic before it finds purchase in flesh.

Stark gasps, mind and heart flooding blue and the sky opens (tears apart) to let the Chitauri through. Loki feels the exact moment their attention is off of him, occupied with moving their troops. The relief of it sends him to his knees like a puppet with no strings.

Stark just stares at him, gaze electric blue. Loki feels a laugh bubbling in the back of his throat. He does not let it out (that way lies (more) madness). Instead, he pushes knowledge at Stark, opens him up to the blue the way he should have done with all of his minions, not just Selvig. What he knows, they should know. When free will is not an option, keeping away information about the mission is _less efficient_.

Stark's mind buckles. Despair claws at Loki. He had thought Stark strong enough to withstand this. Loki has not the power, the _energy_ to fight anymore. He is so tired.

"Please," he says, barely audible over the growing sounds of mayhem outside, " _Help me_."

Stark's expression doesn't change. Loki sags. _All is lost then._ Blue clamors over his vision, urging him up and on, to fight, to _lead_.

His fingers clasp over empty air when he tries to pick up his scepter. Stark is standing over him, holding it and smirking at him. Incandescent rage boils up through him (how dare Stark touch _his_ scepter). But Stark has already called another suit of armor to him and Loki cannot find the energy to stand.

"Sit tight, Dasher. This won't take half a sec."

Loki can only watch as Stark blasts off, puzzled.

He should get up, actually lead this invasion. Yet at this moment, for all that the Tesseract is screaming in his head to act, it is the last thing on Yggdrasil that he wants to do.

A thud and a crackle of lightning announce Thor's arrival. Loki sneers, scrambling to his feet. He'll show that worthless oaf what it means to be a true King, _make him pay, make him suff_ -

Azure floods him, choking. Something is wrong, something is _hurting_ the scepter. Loki screams.

He twists and claws away from the hands holding him; it's yelling his name, he _has to go to it, he has to stop -_

 **xxx**

"Did you really have to break my window trying to get in? There's a door _right there_!"

"My apologies, Man of Iron. My brother was screaming on the floor. I was not thinking clearly."

Thor. That is Thor's voice. Thor's hand pressing warmly against his hair and neck. Loki shudders. He _aches_.

"Loki?"

He opens his eyes. He has to blink furiously before he can make out Thor and Tony Stark. They both look concerned, Stark just a little bit smug.

"How?" his voice is a croak. His throat feels scraped raw.

"Because I'm Tony fucking Stark," Stark flashes a grin before growing serious, fingers tapping against that metal thing in his chest in a nervous tick, "I pulled out of it long enough to know what you wanted me to do, thanks to that information download - which we're _totally_ going to have words about later. Selvig made a back door, I closed the portal and destroyed the scepter. Which was a bit harder to do than I thought it would be."

Loki closes his eyes as Stark's words wash over him. It's _over_.

"Thank you," he manages to get out. He cannot seem to stop shaking. Thor pulls him closer. A part of Loki wants to scream at him, to claw and pull away because how can he act like nothing has changed, like nothing that Loki has done to him _mattered_?

But Thor is warm and familiar and Loki is so, so tired. It is all he can do to just keep taking in gasping breaths and not let go.

He is only vaguely aware of Stark moving away to intercept a crowd of puzzled would be defenders.

 **xxx**

Later, much later, Loki stands before Nick Fury as he rants. Stark and the other Avengers are there as well, fidgeting. They had expected a battle, only to have it be over before anyone knew what was happening. Loki knows well that confusing mix of relief and unresolved anticipation. Energy in need of an outlet.

He has no wish to return to Asgard, wishes to delay it as long as he can. His brother has already pretended not to notice he had sent him back to Asgard with a duplicate. Thor is learning to be devious in his own way, now that Loki refuses to nip at his heels.

Loki thinks of the third mortal he'd taken from the base, the one whose mind he had stripped and who he'd left in a forgotten corner never to be found. Loki grins at the chaos his knowledge will cause, at the leverage this gives him. He thinks about this organization of liars and killers that hides an even worse beast within.

He waits until Fury is finished, expecting a response.

"I believe we have a lot to talk about, Director Fury. I think I can be of quite some use to you."

 **END**


End file.
